Middle aged, Uncool and Not Bringing Sexy Back

Tag: dear snarky help

So many Christmas conundrums. So little time. In an attempt to help spread some holiday happiness I bring you a trio of letters. Let’s hope my answers deliver a soupçon of seasonal sanity to your family gatherings.

Dear Snarky,

My mother-in-law spoils my children and goes overboard with presents. I’ve told her to stop but she won’t listen to me. I don’t think I can handle another Christmas where she’s trying to one up my husband and I in the gift department.

Signed, Present Overkill

Dear Overkill,

Calm yourself and count your blessings. It’s a grandmother’s prerogative and great joy to spoil her grandchildren. If your kids are drowning in presents, I suggest discreetly donating some of the goodies to charity after the first of the year. P.S. Quit looking so hard for something to get your nose out of joint about. There are parents out there that would be THRILLED for their kids’ grandparents to so much as send a card.

Dear Snarky,

My weirdo and single sister actually expects us to buy a gift for her dog. She says her dog is like her child and since she buys presents for my four kids all the time, we can get her dog something.

Signed, No Way

Dear No Way,

Umm, no way, I say, yes way. Drag yourself off of your high horse and go get your sister’s dog a $10 chew toy and get over yourself. Also, being a pet lover and a single doesn’t make you a weirdo. It probably makes you very happy.

Dear Snarky,

My in-laws make the whole family go to Midnight Mass and I think it ruins Christmas morning for my kids (ages 8 and 10) because they’re so tired the next day. How do I get this tradition to stop?

Signed, Not a Fan

Dear Not a Fan,

Grab some caffeine and accept this hard truth. Midnight Mass isn’t going anywhere, and you know where you’re going – uh huh, that’s right to Midnight Mass. So, suck it up, have your kids take a nap and deal with traditions that are older than you are.

*I hope your holidays are drama free BUT if they’re not you know where to send your letter. snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com 😉

I feel like a group of mothers owe me a BIG apology! This summer a bunch of moms were forming a large group of mothers and daughters to rent a party bus and go together to the Taylor Swift concert. I’m not good friends with these moms, but my daughter is in the same class (sixth grade) as a lot of the girls so I said yes.

Fast forward to last week where the moms were getting tipsy on the party bus and then continued to drink at the concert! It got so bad one mom bought herself a Taylor Swift T-shirt and then took off the shirt she had on IN THE LOBBY of the arena and changed. I felt like the only reason I was invited is because most people know I don’t drink and they figured I could be the babysitter for everyone’s girls and as it turned out the moms.

It was awful and not one mother has yet to apologize for their behavior. I want to send a group text and call them out on what they did, but a part of me is scared.

Signed, No More Buses

Dear No More Buses,

Don’t hold your breath or Breathalyzer, as the case maybe, waiting for an apology. It’s not going happen. These women don’t think they did anything wrong getting their drink on at a T Swift concert. All that group text is going to do is make you seem like little Miss Kill Joy.

Your better move is to polite to the party moms and oh so subtly let it be known that you have pictures from the concert up to and including the mom changing her clothes in public and if they give you any grief (or ask you to chair the school fundraiser) you’re not above sharing photos from the “super fun night at the concert.”

Don’t think of it as blackmail. Think of it as payment for babysitting services rendered.

*If you have a question for Dear Snarky – 21st Century Advice with an Attitude please email me at snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com or private message me on my Snarky Facebook page.

I need your help in dealing with a woman who never follows the rules. School pick up and drop off she’s just doing her own thing. Volunteering – maybe she’ll show up maybe she won’t. Trust me I could go on. Now, in what I perceive as the final straw, she’s parking all over town in the spots designated for “Moms to Be” or “Reserved for Expectant Mothers.”

This woman is NOT pregnant. I took over a lasagna dinner when she got a hysterectomy two years ago and she’s able bodied. All you need to do is look at her car plastered with the 26.2 marathon stickers. I’m dying to say something to her, but want your advice on how to do it.

Signed, Rule Follower

Dear Rule,

Well, let’s look on the bright side at least she’s not parking in the handicap spaces – right? Okay, I know that didn’t make you feel any better. So, back to what to say to the “I’m so important I don’t have to follow the rules” Mom. My strategy is to go for the simple yet effective straight up calling her out about it.

I’d walk up to her and ask her why she continually parks in the maternity spaces. So she can’t brush it off as a, “Oh, I only just did it this one time,” comment be sure you let her know you’ve seen her do it MANY times.

Next, wait for her to give you a lame and/or hostile answer and then smile very sweetly and reply, “Well, the only reason I felt compelled to say anything is that I worry about you. You know, because you never seem to grasp the concept of what rules are and how to follow them. I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

And then walk away with your head held high secure in the knowledge that she knows that you know she’s an ass.

*Attention Snarky Friends, I have a brand new book out. It’s the second in the Snarky in the Suburbs series – Snarky in the Suburbs Trouble In Texas. You can buy it for your Kindle or in paperback on Amazon. Click here for Nook or here for Kobo. Here’s a little lookie loo.

Wynn Butler is ready to kill her mother . . . or at the very least demand she gets a psych evaluation and an MRI. On Wynn’s yearly pilgrimage to Trask, Texas, to visit her parents what she hoped would be a relaxing visit (not counting the family reunion which has all the charm of a zombie apocalypse) has turned into a Texas-sized, hot mess!

Her 69-year-old mother Gwynn Crockett Martin has become an entrepreneur and opened up a cupcake bakery that seems to be doing double duty as a halfway house for economically battered Junior League dropouts.

If that’s not enough to make Wynn want to turn tail and run home, her mom is hell bent on convincing her to “heed the call of Jesus” and come to the aid of a woman that made Wynn miserable in high school – Sara Beth Bishop. And by aid, Wynn’s mother means concoct a plan to exact epic revenge on Sara Beth’s lying, cheating, spray tanning, money stealing ex-husband and his new wife, snob-of-the-millennium, Yale Greenly.

Things go from bad to worse when Wynn finds herself embroiled in a scheme that involves breaking and entering, theft, assault, livestock wrangling, killer mold, impersonating a maid, hair spray bomb fabrication and crashing the town’s poshest society event of the year – THE Mohair Palace Pageant. If Wynn can survive this visit home without doing time in the ER, jail, or both, it will be a miracle!

Hang on to your hat and saddle up for a retribution rodeo or, as Wynn’s mom calls it . . . “justice served up Lone Star style.”

Vintage Snarky

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